SYOC: Hybrids
by poets-in-l o v e
Summary: It's 2034, set twenty years after Elena, Stefan and Damon had left town. Mystic Falls has evolved into a cooking pot for all kind of supernatural creatures...vampires, witches, your typical magical ingredients. What happens when new creatures drop in on the mystical town? Especially with a supernatural war brewing...SYOC STILL OPEN!
1. Chapter 1

**UPDATE! I need more boys and gays. Lesbians are love too. (Plus I am one) PLEASE. EVERYBODY'S SO STRAIGHT.  
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**To guarantee a top spot that could help your chances, it must be male, a Cambion and gay. But you don't have to. **

**There will be 8 main characters. 4 girls, 4 boys.**

**8 supporting characters **

**And a few minor characters, depending on how many I feel like accepting. **

**The form is right below and WILL be on my profile but before we do that...**

**RULES. ****Yo, listen up.**

1.** This is NOT a first come, first serve, type of deal. And please do not ask me if your character is accepted right then and there. **You can ask if a character has a chance of making it and I'll honestly reply back but that's it!

2. **No Mary-Sues or Gary-Stews**, no one's perfect and I mean **NO ONE**! Both characters and people in real life have flaws.

3. Deadlines are on **11th Feb.**

4. Celebrity look-alikes are **needed for the Tumblr. **

5. **ORIGINALITY, DIVERSITY, and DETAIL **are the three most important things that I'll be looking for! **But don't go WAY out the box to the point where it's not believable**. Crazy things happen in everyday life, I'm sure, but c'mon, let's be real here, **life can't be that tragic**! (or as real as I can possibly get, it is Fanfiction after all...)

5. **PLEASE DO NOT POST CHARACTERS IN THE REVIEWS! SEND THEM VIA PM!**

person can have a total of** two** character submissions. But I can assure you only **one **might make it to the main character's list.

7. No copy-cat personalities or celebrity lookalikes from _any _of the cast on TVD.

8. **If anyone fails to comply by any of these rules, it will really hurt the chance of any and all characters from any rule breakers to be accepted. SO READ THE RULES CAREFULLY! ;)**

**9. Follow the SYOC Form and have fun! Take your time and thank you! :)**

**Types of creatures:**

**-Vampires**

**-Werewolves**

**-Witches**

**-Dopplergangers**

**-Humans**

**Nephilim: **Half angel, half human; you can never be made into a Nephilim but you are born one. Daughters and sons of fallen angels, they're shun from the supernatural society since the beginning of time. They've been around ever since the times of the Israelites' conquest of Canaan. They're similar to the Greeks' idea of demigods, inheriting powers from their Angel father but living a mortal life span. The angels who have fallen are usually 'watchers', the angels who 'take care' of Earth by observing humans. The good ones are the one who stays pure and remains no contact with humans whatsoever, the fallen are usually those who had rebelled within the hierarchy and fall in love with humans. If a watcher falls in love with a human, they will be 'executed'. The seven archangels will cut off their wings in a jury of angels and they would be castaway from heaven, falling into the Earth- thus being called 'Fallen Angels'. Seeing as how Nephilim are mortal and exert HEAPS of energy by having super senses (blurred speed, super strength). In order to maintain a healthy lifestyle they must eat twice the amount of calories intake of a normal human. **Physical Characteristics: **Appear as a normal human being but as they hit the age of 15 and up, they would start to 'blossom'. Blossoming is when they would mature into a full-fledge Nephilim. Blossoming is a week-long process of mutating into a hybrid angel-human. Blossoming will cause your senses to heighten and you will be constantly ravaging for food, most likely junk food- anything with high calories. Blossoming also means their wings will grow. Their wings are similar to one of an eagle, long and extending, over four feet long and extremely heavy. The color of their wings differ according to personality. When human, Nephilim can 'furl' their wings into the two deep gashes on their backs where the wings will fold up, like birds, and stay hidden. **Abilities: **Flying, super senses, enhanced eyesight (they possess the eyesight of an eagle flying from several hundred feet), fluent in old languages such as Enochian (the language of Angels) and Latin and Light Manipulation. **Weaknesses: **Human mortality, holy water, holy oil, specific charms meant to ward off angels.

**Cambion: **Half demon, half human. They are also known as katako or the Anti-Christ. Cambions are usually born through a virgin mother, conceived by an incubus, and born on an auspicious day and time such as equinoxes and solstices. They are the Nephilim's worst enemies. Cambions have been known to stir up Apocalypses and Armageddons for the past few thousand years or so. Cambions were behind the main reason of the Great Flood and so on, been known to wreak havoc all over the place. Cambions, after they are of age would be brought into Hell, meant to serve Lucifer and command his minions. **Physical Characteristics: **Appear as a normal human being but when angered or aroused, their eyes will turn pitch black like a demon's. They aren't actual corporeal- they can vanish into a shadow, or a cloud of grey black smoke. They can shift their body shape into mist or shadow form for a quick get away or camouflage purposes. **Abilities: **Shadow-travelling: Travel from one place to another through shadows, umbrakinesis:the ability to control darkness, summoning and controlling demons, super senses. **Weaknesses: **Holy oils, holy water, Catholic crosses, sage, pentagrams, the Bible, anything blessed by a preacher and salt.

**Mermaids: **Mermaids are usually turned into one or born one. To turn into a mermaid, there's a cursed coral hidden in the deep bottom of the sea ridge just off the coast of Virginia Beach and if you cut your hand against it, you'll become feverish and weak every time you approach the water- this is the first stage of the transformation. Then you'll need to drown in sea water in order for the transformation to complete. Mermaids can't eat anything except for seafood and plants from the sea. They would need to swim everyday in the sea in order to stay alive, just like vampires need to consume blood. The natural born ones are a 'company' of mermaids, like packs of wolves. The born ones are "real" mermaids, unlike transformed humans, live on a seafood diet and wear seashells as jewelry. They dwell in unknown islands, rarely getting out of the water and going about human lives. It is rare to see a born mermaid taking part of human activity. **Physical Characteristic: **Appear as a human being when dry. The instance they touch the water, their legs will become numb as they fall to the ground and the body will be subjected into immense pain as if shifts into a tail. Their necks will have three deep slashes, resembling fish gills. The gills disappear when they return to land and dry themselves of. The colour of their tails differ. **Abilities: **Changing into a mermaid, enhanced swimming, water manipulation, storm manipulation, 'Siren Voice' (Vocal Compulsion, not speaking but singing), communicates with sea animals, underwater breathing, durability** (**Merpeople can swim days without getting exhausted). **Weaknesses: **Water (ironically), human mortality, drying out (if they're on land for more than twenty-four hours, they'll dry out as in their skin starts flaking and peeling, their hair falls out…), they're often hunted by fishermen as well.

**Immunes: **Immunes are the extraordinarily ordinaries- they are pristinely ungifted. They are human- remarkably so. Though they have no magic, no powers or no abilities, they can't be compelled by vampires, bitten by werewolves or be harmed by any magic of any kind. They can only die by a mortal would created by a mortal. They are untouched by any supernatural being and immune to any witch's spell. An Immune is usually born every occasional hundred years in a human family. **Physical Characteristics: **Human. **Abilities:** None. **Weaknesses: **Normal, human wounds.

**Prophets: **Prophets served for the Three Fates, the divine personification for destiny, who controlled the metaphorical thread of life of every mortal and immortal from birth to death. Prophets are usually human, most particularly women, and have appeared through multiple mythologies as well as religions. The first few years of a Prophet's life, their ability to have premonitions and predict destiny would only discern when they hit puberty. Prophets must stay a VIRGIN no matter what and would chant a sacred oath to seal their chastity vow towards the Three Fates. If they didn't keep the oath a curse called 'Cassandra's Curse' (named after Cassandra of Troy) would bequeath upon them and they would be plagued by visions until they were driven insane. Their communications with the Fates could appear in different ways. For example: if the Prophet is an artist, she would go in a trance and start sketching out images of the future. Prophets can also predict things through the shapes of the clouds or sacrificing an animal and reading the entrails. **Physical Characteristics: **Normal human girl. When they are in their 'prophet trance', their eyes would glow white and their voice will become into a raspy tone of an old woman's- the Three Fates' voices. The Prophet will become invincible, unable to be killed by anything as they speak the prophecy or depict the vision. **Abilities: **Premonitions, speaking prophecies, divination. **Weaknesses: **Cassandra's Curse, mortal wounds (when they're not in the trance).

**Places:**

**Mystic Falls**

**The Institute of the Supernatural-** founded by Monsieur Beaucourt in 1899. It resides in Manhattan under the glamour of an abandoned hotel. It is, like the name, a school for the Supernatural. It is accepted to any creature of any kind, good or bad and it's a safe haven for those endangered as it will be under the charms placed by the witches. Teachers are usually volunteers- for exchange of a place to stay to teach others how to handle their supernatural abilities.

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><p>Basic<p>

Full name:

Nickname:

Gender:

Age:

Sexuality:

Religion:

Species:

Hometown:

Date of birth:

Family:

History:

Appearance

Eyes:

Hair:

Skin tone:

Height:

Build:

Weight:

Features:

Clothing Style:

Celebrity Lookalike:

Internal

Personality:

Likes:

Dislikes:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Favourites

-Books:

-Movies:

-Television:

-Music:

External

Weapons:

Magical Abilities:

Social

Friends:

Enemies:

Boyfriend:

Exes (list the important ones):

Clique:

Clubs/Teams:

Story

Storylines:

Anything else:

* * *

><p><strong>Basic<strong>

**Full name:** Eden Jessica Castellan

**Nickname: **Ray of Sunshine (sarcastically), Blondie, Cheerleader, Basic White Girl No. 1, Blonde-Blue-Eyes, The Pale Ghost, Golden Dwarf, Barbie Doll, Punk Barbie, Supergirl.

**Gender:** Female

**Age: **16

**Sexuality:** Lesbian (closeted)

**Religion:** Atheist

**Species: **Nephilim

**Hometown: **Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York

**Date of birth: **8-8-2018

**Family: **

**Mother: **Elysia Castellan. Blonde haired, brown-eyed, pale skinned, 38, works as a part-time dancer, part-time waitress, used to be a prophet. Elysia is a schizophrenic alcoholic and occasional drug addict. She is very irresponsible and careless. She had a lot of men in her life but never told Eden who her father was. She is not a very trusting person and often spied on her boyfriends, with the help of Eden. She's the reason of their frequent financial difficulties because she's often skipping work after a night of binge-drinking. Though Eden's only parent was Elysia, Elysia didn't treat Eden well. Not that Eden was physically abused, but her mother has a habit of forgetting to pick her up at school or worse, constantly screaming at Eden to be the bane of her existence, blaming her to be the reason why her father left. Eden's schizophrenia was due to her breaking her vow and resulted in the Cassandra's Curse.

**Father**: Gadreel. Human form: Sandy, ash haired, pale blue eyes and tan skin, looks 42, is currently posing as a Preacher in Mystic Falls. As a human he goes by the name David Appleby. He is listed as one of the chiefs in the fallen grigori of angels, which is why he lives in hiding from the demons and angels in hopes of living a normal life. He fell in love with a mortal, which is why his wings are now gone and he regrets it every single day of his life. The reason why he left Elysia with Eden is because he was running from the archangels. Eden despises him, despite not knowing him.

**Grand-Aunt: **Jemima Castellan. Blonde curly hair, brown-eyed, tan skin, 58, works as a law professor at the local University. Jemima's the wise, kind aunt who's sort of a bit of a clueless when it comes to the latest fads and trends. She gets a bit fearful at handling teenagers and children since she doesn't have any and is more career-minded than most. Eden is reluctant to Jemima's care because when Eden lives with her mother, Jemima had more than once chance to guarantee Eden a better life and she never did util now.

**History: **Coming from a broken home and a destitute background, all her life Eden had to take care of herself. Her mother was either missing or drunk all the time, her father had bunked the family and she pretty much raised herself on her own. She dropped out of the school at the age of eleven to work and she'd been a waitress all her life. It was not until her mother had court-ordered rehab, she was shipped off to Mystic Falls to stay under the care of her grand-aunt.

**Appearance**

**Eyes: **Pale, ice blue, round and framed with curly eyelashes

**Hair: **White blonde, platinum beachy waves ombred with brunette to it's tips.

**Skin tone: **Pale porcelain

**Height: **5'2

**Build: **Tiny and fragile; she's almost like a porcelain Russian doll and she looks like she's easy to break because of her size. She's slim and small but if anybody tried to point that out to her or make fun of her for it, she'll break their face.

**Weight: ** 100 lbs.

**Features: **A slightly upturned, pointy nose, dimples, a doll-like appearance, pink cupid lips and an oblong face. Her wings are black but with slight slashes and mixture of white and dark brown.

**Clothing Style: **Well, she's pretty casual with slight punk influences. She wears band tops, such as Nirvana or the Ramones, with ripped jeans and converses. During winter, it's either a denim or leather jacket over the top with her beanie and combat boots. If it's fancy, she usually just shows up in a purple mini dress with her converses.

**Celebrity Lookalike: **Dove Cameron

**Internal**

**Personality:** She is NOT your typical blonde. All her life, she has been stereotyped as a 'dumb blonde' or 'cheerleader' or 'ignorant white girl' because of how she looked so she went out of her way to prove them wrong. In actual fact, she's a critic. Because of her hardships, she's the kind of girl who is smart, clever, witty but judgemental, bitchy, hotheaded, angry with her peers, frustrated at the big ball of disappointment her generation seemed to spawn and is facing some kind of existential crisis. But unlike the rest of her selfie-taking, blonde, brain-washed generation of idiots she's forced to attend classes with everyday, she prides herself on being sensible, aware of what she wants and not 'caught up' in the sexual, however stupidly shallow circle her teen classmates, like everybody is.

She thinks girls her age should be highly educated and do more with their lives than simply pursue boyfriends or the hottest trends on magazines. She's increasingly loyal to her family and friends, though she can be perceived as a bit too opinionated and a little mean, she makes it clear she cares for her own community. She's that asshole with an opinion. She swears like a sailor, is extremely sarcastic, rude and blunt with not much regards to what people think of her or how they would feel because she mostly perceive her brutal honesty as constructive criticism and thinks society should be focusing more on telling whether you really suck or not, rather than sugarcoating everything and going out there in the world blind. She has no tact whatsoever and any attempts to liberate her would be futile. She's very cynical and she's well-aware she's 5'2 of a bitchy attitude so she embraces it.

She can also be fairly prejudiced and quick to judge people who she perceives as condescending or a threat to her way of life, or friends. But right now all she cares about is graduating without possibly killing anyone and making it out there. She's the kind who believes dreams are hopeless and hope breeds eternal misery and all she ever wants is to earn enough just to get by, just to survive unscathed. She never had the guts to look for more or even dream big, mainly because she has a fear of success- nobody ever believed in her.

Despite all of her insecurities, even though she's not like every girl out there at least she's glad she isn't: "Omigod, so hot!" or "Omigod, Starbucks!"

**Likes: **Spicy food, black coffee, rock, pop-punk, post-hardcore music, Jack Daniels, books, John Green, David Leviathan, writing, reading, words, poetry, HBO shows, video games; she likes people who can speak for themselves and aren't too naive. People who understand that life isn't always rainbows and sunshine. Let's face it- life is the big yellow bus trying to run you over. She has a thing for brunettes.

**Dislikes: **Well, she dislikes a LOT of things. The feeling of cardboard, flowers, pink, skirts and dressers, cheerleaders, liars, milk, cream, dairy products, people with no backbone, pop music, TWILIGHT, the vampire craze, cliches, stereotypes anything by Ariana Grande. She dislike white blonde girls who know they are smart and capable of being so much more and yet they chose to be just like their stereotype. Y'know: OMG ONE DIRECTION! It irritates her to no end. She also HATES Hipsters with a passion- the only thing she hates more than people trying too hard are people trying not to try too hard. To explain her hatred: 1) The haircuts. Ain't nothing FASHIONABLE about a FASHION mullet. 2) THEY'RE ALL SKINNY. SOOOOO skinny. Even the boys. She don't like skinny boys, she HATE skinny girls and she thinks it's unattractive to resemble a victim of famine. 3. Hipster's attempts at cool facial hair. Enough said. 4. Tight pants. PEOPLE CAN SEE EVERYTHING. LEAVE SOMETHING FOR IMAGINATION, OKAY? 5. EVERY HIPSTER WEAR GLASSES. WTF? 6. PLAID, PLAID, EVERYWHERE! 7. The obsession with irony. 8. The pretension. Stop acting like you hate everything because you're too 'hipster' for liking anything mainstream. The minute anything becomes mainstream you'll be like, 'yeah hate it.' 9. Dirty Dirty Dirty. She rarely seen a hipster who looks like it's bathed within the past 5-7 days. 10. The nonchalance of the whole thing. Caring about others is cool; get over it.

**Strengths: **She's good at writing. Like REALLY good. She's realistic, streetsmart, independent, clever and witty. She can be compassionate about her family, even if she does give them a good tongue-lashing she'll do anything to protect them. Nobody insults her family and friends, except her. She's a pretty good cook too, since she spend most of her life making food for herself.

**Weaknesses: **Gummy bears- anything with jello, she would be there to eat it. Education; she missed out on school for 5 years so she's a bit slow in terms on catching up with those of her peers. She can't give out advice or sympathize with other people; it's not that she's heartless...it's just she doesn't understand their troubles and she'll just awkwardly pat their back. She's not optimistic, or cheery, or ever thinks that life is going to get better for her. She's quite negative, actually.

**Favourites**

**-Books: **Anything by John Green or David Leviathan. Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings- she's a bit of a geek.

**-Movies: **Lord of the Rings, Star Wars.

**-Television: **Game of Thrones and Breaking Bad.

**-Music: **GREEN DAY. Pop-punk and post-hardcore, mostly. She loves bands.

**External**

**Weapons: **Bow and arrow. As she 'blossomed' into a Nephilim, other Nephilims teach her how to fight with weapons and fly properly. Her favourite weapons is archery.

**Magical Abilities: **Flying, super senses.

**Social**

**Friends: **Anybody who tolerate her. Probably those who are intelligent and unpretentious.

**Enemies: **HIPSTERS. FREAKING WHITE GIRLS. Cheerleaders.

**Boyfriend: **-

**Exes (list the important ones): **She has no time for relationships when it comes to dealing with her crazy mother and working all the time. Besides, she's not a believer in love.

**Clique: **She doesn't have a clique...or gets suck into all thet crappy cliche high school crap...she rolls on her own.

**Clubs/Teams:**

Newspaper Club.

Book Club.

**Story**

**Storylines: **-information disclosed-

**Anything else:**


	2. Wyatt: Ordinary Beginnings

**I don't own anything in this story, with the mild exception of Eden.  
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_Wyatt Price_

Mystic Falls didn't looked like it was seventeen years ago.

I twisted my daylight ring, a habit I've picked up whenever I was observing or pondering about the enlightening quails the world had to offer. The Colonial red-bricked buildings, the small flat-roofed shops and the tall, old-fashioned houses had faded away into the swanky, steel and glass coffee shops, trendy high-rising malls and urban, glistening apartments. Walking around the familiar streets, the distinct aura of nostalgia overwhelmed me as I observed my old hometown. A swarm of memories ruffled their feathers in my head, all soaked in wistful regrets of an old man. Jesus, it's been only seventeen years, which felt like yesterday, and so much had changed.

The black flannel shirt pressed onto my body as I strode onto the quintessential grass field of my old high school. Of course, if you were a new kid and your parents had seen the brochure to Mystic Falls High School, you get a photoshopped building, a clear sky, some birds thrown into it and the inevitable forced-smiles teenagers showing you a thumbs-up. But if you had an IQ ranked higher than double digits, you knew it was all just steal-your-money gimmicks to attract parents.

Mystic Falls high school didn't looked anything like the brochure. There was the white-framed industrial windows filthy with smudged hand and finger prints all over it, the courtyard- a mix of cement with benches and grass- was littered with cigarette butts, candy wrappers and the general rubbish people secretly dumped onto the floor while no one was looking, it was a standard brown-bricked flat-roofed building and the steel double doors were jammed with students milling in and out.

I, on the other hand, thought it looked like a prison.

"Looks like a fucking mental institution," I heard a girl mutter besides me.

Others had similar thoughts too, apparently.

I stifled a laugh and she suddenly noticed I've heard her comment. She was the very blonde, typical white girl whose pale blue eyes glaring at me with such vigour I thought a Starbucks was going to magically pop up in her hand and she would throw the pumpkin spice latte onto my face. What? It _could _happen. After seventeen years of being a vampire, you'll be surprised who's a supernatural being. Even though she resembled every other white girl in America, I've never seen her face around this infallibly small town before nor does she struck any resemblance to any of the older generation here in Mystic Falls.

She must be a newbie.

"I've never seen you before," I mused aloud, suddenly realized I've verbalized those words unintentionally. She inhaled sharply.

"Well, I've never seen _you _before," she stated boldly, "You don't see me goin' round, shouting that to everybody in the whole fucking area, right? Jesus, you small town people keep acting like we actually have to socialize and _like _each other."

"You're not a very nice person." But so was I. With her silver tongue of hers, maybe I would find myself sufficiently amused. I could tell she had as much hatred for the dwindling sad plethora of an Autotuned generation, despite her appearance.

Surprisingly, she smiled, breaking out of a scowl that looked like a permanent feature on her gentle, delicate face, and stuck out her hand. "Glad you got one thing right, Ken Doll. Anyway, I'm Eden Castellan. If it walks like a bitch, talks like a bitch, it must be me."

That actually earned me a good laugh, something I haven't experienced in the past several years. When I finally seized control of my laughter, Eden grinned wickedly and flipped her blonde hair. I liked her. It was hard to say but so far she appeared tolerable. She was not a typical human- she wasn't a stereotypical teenage girl either. She didn't seemed the type of girls who threw themselves at boys; actually, she was the opposite. If I've known back then, she was the best friend I had to stick by my side. The Watson to my Sherlock. "Wyatt," I shook her hand, an enveloping, firm and warm grip encased my fingers. "Wyatt Price."

"Alright, Wyatt, you haven't run away screaming yet so I assume you're an alright company." Eden clapped me onto the back, I snorted in response and earned another one of her wicked smiles that defied her sweet blonde innocent appearance.

We journeyed over the courtyard, avoid the usual cacophony of the first days. Y'know: friends- most importantly the female specimen- shrieking and hugging each other as though this was their first time meeting each other. My first day of peace and quiet ultimately punctured by the high-pitched gaggle of girls surrounding a bench around a pretty girl who was flipping her medium length light blonde hair, their squeals of 'Adeline, you look _so _good!' magnified due to my vampiric hearing. If they were any louder, my eardrums would've bled. Guys fistbumped each other and head-butted. I rolled my eyes. As if you need to lose any more IQ points.

There was a clamour of a boys throwing a football around, calling out to each other.

"Adam, catch!" A Hispanic boy dived out in front of me and jumped into the air for the ball. His feet lifted into the air and he practically flew over my head. My eyebrows scrunched as he dropped and rolled onto the ground with the ball, laughing as he was astonished at himself for being able to catch it. That was weird. He pretty much _jumped _higher than a normal human should. I wanted to observe further, see if any more extraordinary abilities would discern, but Eden dragged me into the school.

Eden opened the door and we filed in together. The interior of the school was literally the same as before- just like I remembered. The linoleum floor that was once white was now grey, the ceilings and walls that used to be white were marred with grey and brown spots, rows of reflective blue lockers glistened and the hallway resonated with the buzz of student's chatter, the squeaks of sneakers rubbing onto the floor and the clangs of lockets slamming shut. We searched around the hallway for any leads to the office, but we couldn't find it.

"Hey you," Eden approached a redhead, whose hair colour _so _obviously came from a bottle. She was in a blue and white cheerleading uniform. _Already? _I wondered rhetorically. "Do you know where the receptionist office is?"

She nodded. "It's round the right corner." She winked flirtatiously at me and laid a hand onto my arm and I swatted her away immediately, every neuron in my body flaring when her hand landed in contact with mine. She brushed it off by seductively smiling at me. "Oh, and would _you _like to try out for the cheerleading team?" she asked Eden.

Eden choked onto her bile from laughing too hard. "Me, cheerleading? I have two left feet. I think by the end of the day the team would be in the hospital."

"So?" the redhead shrilled, utilizing full use of those cheerleading vocals. I winced from the sound and dug my nails into my palms to keep me from ripping her limbs off. Anything from snapping her neck. "You have the right hair-"

_Blonde._

"The right type of cheerleading look-"

_White._

"And you're also kind of pretty," shrugged the redhead but instead of taking it as a compliment, Eden rolled her eyes.

"Thanks," she drawled, snarky and unable to resist the compulsion of putting the cheerleader into her rightful place. I wouldn't too so I watched the scene unfold in amusement. "It's always my fucking life accomplishment to be _kind _of pretty." She set her jaw and her pale eyes seemed to burn in an incandescent glow as she crossed her arms. "I'm not some fucking hollaback girl, even if I _look _like one."

The redhead pursed her lips and rose her chin in defiance, challenging the shorter girl's gaze. "What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," mocked Eden in a falsetto voice, dripping with derisive, saccharine prep and cheer. Her fists were balled and I instinctively squeezed her arm, restraining her from biting the cheerleader's head off. That was _my _job, after all. "But _you _certainly do. So why don't you write it on a paper, fold it nicely into an envelop and shove it up that perky ass, will you, sweetums?"

The redhead barred her teeth and it was too fast for Eden to catch but I netted a short glimpse of canine teeth poking out of her gums. "I'm _gonna-"_

"Lottie!" cried out a blonde in a similar white and blue cheerleading uniform. "Adeline's calling."

Her aggression dwindled and withered. The anger in her eyes didn't waver but she stepped away from Eden, who was comically tiny compared to the redhead. She eyed me once again, a smile glossing her lips, and we watched her stalk off into the distance, following the blonde.

Eden's shoulders relaxed and she wrenched herself out of my grip, glaring at me. What did I do wrong? Wasn't stopping someone from killing the other a good thing? Or has the humanity's misconcepted idea of a moral compass had completely change?

Was I really _that _out of the fads and trends? Goddamn, I should invest in getting a Twitter.

"Hey," she roughly pushed me away from her but it didn't hurt- that was another one of those vampire perks. Human's strength is pretty much an ant bite when it comes to feeling their hits. "I've a no-contact rule. You don't touch me unless you're going to have sex with me. And you know me," she smirked, "I prefer them as drug dealers with no future whatsoever."

"Well, I'm _sorry _for trying to stop you from getting into trouble."

She sighed and I patted her on the back, ignoring her boundaries. She glared at me, fierce enough to make a grown man run for his mother, but I didn't even flinched, much to her annoyance. "I just can't have another ignorant idiot up my ass," she nodded her head to the bouncing redhead cheerleader. "My sweet ass is at capacity."

I took a peek at her aforementioned buttocks, shrugging nonchalantly. "Oh I've seen better."

She punched me in the arm. I cracked a grin. We went along with the redhead's directions, managing to locate the office made of glass. The receptionist's office was crowded with a bunch of new students collecting their schedules so the dumpy woman behind the counter had enthusiastically, in the most irritating manner possible, told us to wait by the sitting area. She was currently dealing with the same Hispanic kid I've seen earlier and due to my vampiric hearing, I've heard snippets of their conversation.

"So Mr Nioben, you've just transferred from Canada, right?"

"Yeah, I think my results from my previous school are…"

"Got it! It was under the folder. Ah, I'm such a scatterbrain!"

"Oh no, it's okay…"

The sitting area consisted of several peeling couches, one of which was occupied by a young girl with caramel hair and skin of the same colour reading one of the outdated lifestyle magazines fanned out on the Ikea store-bought wooden coffee table.

"Hi!" she greeted delightfully upon our arrival. I scrunched up my nose at the jovial tone of her voice. She just _had _to be one those preppy bitches who took utmost joy in appreciating life and all that Christian Good-Girl naivety I wished they kept to themselves. "I'm new. Are you guys new too?"

"Hi 'New'," I couldn't resist retorting. "The name's Wyatt."

Eden had to pretty much stuff a fist into her mouth to stop herself from laughing. The girl blinked, confused. "Aren't you new students?"

...She never heard of _sarcasm?_

Apparently, Eden was thinking along the same lines. "Um, have you ever heard of sarcasm?"

"...Is it a _fruit_?" she questioned, genuinely puzzled. "Or something else- a car? That wonderfully crafted device made from humanity?"

Eden and I gawked at her, wondering if she was born yesterday or naturally stupid. "It's- it's a literary device," I explained.

Eden rubbed the sides of her forehead. "Long story short, it's a device to defeat idiots without them knowing it."

"Oh- oh, I'm sorry," she apologized, defeated. "I don't get out a lot."

"You actually live under a rock?" Eden wondered.

"Don't be mean!" I hissed at her.

"I'm _not..._oh wait, yeah I am."

"Not necessarily a rock." Her mouth was a thin, wan line. She was tucking in a loose strands of her hair. "I've never got your name," she said to Eden. "I'm Lorelai."

"Eden."

Suddenly, a fretful intern emerged out of the door, exceptionally vexed and breathless. "You're the new kids?" she panted, clutching her chest. "Would...would...you like some water?"

Lorelai's back straightened, rigid. "No thanks," she declined almost too automatically. "No water necessary."

"Some would be nice," mentioned Eden.

"And you?" The intern averted her attention to me.

"I'm fine, thanks."

She flounced off, disappearing at the speed of a sports car. Then the receptionist called on me and I approached her counter. I handed in my files and documentations about my past schools and so on. She glanced at my files and frowned. "I don't know if you're…"

"I'm fine, okay?" I grunted harshly, low enough so Eden and Lorelai wouldn't hear me, and looked into her eyes; the pupils enlarging as it met mine. She nodded and she had this dreamy, glazed look in her eyes as she smiled at my files.

"Welcome to Mystic Falls High School, Mr Price," she chirped cheerfully. I checked for any signs of hesitation, any pauses in her speech and there was none. She was completely compelled. She gave me a paper with colour-coded boxes- my schedule. She stared off to the distance and called upon the next recipient, who wasn't at the waiting area but lurking by the glass door. "Miss Sergeyveya?"

I turned towards the direction of whom she was referring to: a young woman whose features suggested foreign ancestry- probably Russian or East Asian, from what I've wagered- with almond-shaped, almost feline dark brown eyes with slights hints of flickering grey and green. She was average height, no way close to my staggering 5'11, but her lean, ballerina built gave the impression she was tall. She was poised like a cat, seemingly lazy and business-like at the same time, casual but ready to pounced at any time as well. I darted skillfully out of the way as she stepped forward to hand over her files and I tried to read her body language, her eyes, her expressions but my usually excellent character reader couldn't conform her into any stereotype, any category I've ever known in my thirty four years of living (or at least seventeen years of living and the other seventeen of a waking dead). I couldn't read any of her thoughts, emotions since it was hardly broadcasted on her stone-like face. I thought she was a vampire but I could hear her faint, pulsing heartbeat thumping across the space of the administrative office.

She was fully human but I couldn't know _what _kind. She didn't function like a normal sixteen years old. She nodded comprehensively as the woman handed her schedule and directed her, with as much irritating cheerfulness as possible, to sign up for the numerous, veritable extracurriculars. Her expression didn't change but her lips twisted in bemusement, somehow amused by the normality of the situation. "Thank you," she inclined her head towards the receptionist. Her English was accented- Russian indeed.

She strode off, her dark eyes fixed on me warily as she exited out of the door. I imitated her gesture, returning into the crowded hallway. When I was in the hallway, I stretched my fingers and avoided the urge to feed on every student. I pushed it away, ignoring any kind of eye contact while I swerved through school. What the hell was I doing back here? Well, truth be told, I never finished high school and considering I'll never find _him _again, I decided to do something useful with my extended existence. Before I could find my classroom, a pretty girl in this architectural taffeta high fashion dress approached me with a pink flyer- I raised my eyebrow at it. Seriously, _pink_?

Have the generation gotten more stupid without my notice?

"Hey there, cutie," she wiggled her fingers at me, like it was some secret alien peace sign. My facial expression was a crossbreed of a grimace and a trapped animal cornered by headlights. "This is, like, an invitation to my party. It's kind of, like, a back to school thing."

"No thanks." It came out polite, yet frosty. I handed it back to her thick wad of pink flyers. "Parties aren't my scene."

She was astounded at my declination. "But, like, it's _me. _I'm inviting you, duh. It's, like, a totes one-time thing. I'm doing this because you're special," she winked at me lecherously. I almost blanched but successfully recovered from my triggered gag reflex by playing it off coolly and raising an eyebrow- a trick I've finally managed to master after years.

"I don't even know you."

"Well," she sniffed huffily, placing her arms on her hips saucily. "It's Adeline Montressor. And take a flyer, just in case you change your mind." _Oh honey, I doubt I would _was certainly implied in my expression but she forced it into my fist and marched away, her five inches heels ringing with rage.

I glimpsed at the crumpled pink flyer onto my hand and read the bold, black words printed onto it: **Adeline's Fall Party! Bring your own alcohol! **Then I considered the possibility of going. I did came here to do something with my existence and out of all the things, I decided to try giving becoming a normal teenager a go. And attending this party would help with it, right?

I crumpled the paper and tossed it to the bin.

Never mind invitations. I would just invite myself.

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><p><strong>I HOPE I NAIL HIS PERSONA.<strong>

**Seriously, I am the utterly _worse _at portraying guys.**

**I'm even worse at portraying sarcastic guys. I can't crack any period jokes- period. Hehehehe, you catch the pun? **

**THE SYOC IS STILL OPEN. I'm being very fussy about the Main Character slot because not only does it have to be detailed but it has to fit into dynamics with all the others. Read this chapter and consider your options. I've gotten so many Katherine-Pierce like characters, it's not funny. There's other personalities, yo. I'm mainly looking for males- it would guarantee your chances in success of gaining a main character, provided your form is sufficient.**

**Next POV: Kosti.**

**REVIEW!**


	3. Kosti: Undercover

**Hey there, don't forget to submit more supporting characters!  
><strong>

**Don't own stuff. **

_Kosti Sergeyeva_

The problem with being human was sometimes humanity tended to be overrated. Humans, the majority of the inhabitants of the planet, slugged around their relatively short lives, always hoping for situations to assuage, lives to become more debaucherous or adventurous.

I adjusted the straps of my bag so it wouldn't too heavy as it jostled with the various usual things a normal highschooler would carry: textbooks, notebooks, pens, wooden stakes, tranquilizer guns filled with vervain, guns, knives and vials of holy water.

I slid into my seat, eyeing every one of my peers that walked through the door cautiously. My nerves were fried. I was almost utterly sure the whole school reeked of supernatural activity. All of the new kids whom were decking out by the couches at the ridiculously small waiting area were red herrings flashing out before my eyes but I thrusted the impulsion to whip every weapon I had imaginable and plugged them out with full guns blazing down my throat and kept my head down.

Hunting was not what I was here to do.

The class blurred past me in shades of monochromatic grey. It was all very bleak and juvenile for me. Everybody here was so...American, like it just emerged out of a scene from a movie, and I felt myself amused as some of the girls were freaking out about a new boutique opening up by the street just down the road from school. History was a fascinating affair; it was steeped so rich in the vampire and werewolf folklore of Mystic Falls I found myself jotting notes and leaning in with interest. Academics had no particular appeal to me- of course there was occult and lore, but it was necessary and played into the role of being someone who needed to protect themselves for the supernatural. Besides, I was only here to pose under the role of a mindless teenager, occupied by the fads of the Internet and social media. Once Rakta was cured, I would find myself back to Russia, back to a life I was used to.

It wasn't until Lunch time when the cheerleaders approached me. The Head Cheerleader, whom I was assuming was the tall, lanky girl with a waterfall of blonde hair and a fixed, practised lipgloss smile approached me. "Hey," she eyed my athletic built, sympathy flashing through her eyes. "You look a little lost."

My lips twisted into a confused frown. Lost? How did I ever appeared that way? "Not really," I replied very professionally. "The cafeteria is over there, right?"

"Yeah," she agreed dismissively, "Anyway, um, we have tryouts tomorrow and it would be _totally _cool if you want to stop by. Just, like," she flipped her hair and paused for dramatic effect, "Almost every other girl would, like, _die _to be invited by us."

The amount of 'like' in her sentences seemed to exceed beyond capacity.

"Sure," I smiled- though it was rather forced and distant, with an implication of _I'm not going to be your new BFF._ Cheerleading didn't seemed to be much of a waste of time and a better option for me to keep appearances since it was a physical sport- something, if I had a say about it, I was familiar with. Sure, I had to dance and have 'spirit'- whatever the hell that was- but it'd be a way to add into

I rather thrust poms-poms in the air than stare at a blackboard all day, attempting to learn quadratic formulas.

After school, I walked towards where the old quarters of Mystic Falls resided. The town was split into two factions: a shiny, gleaming urban borough with glass and steel apartments and trendy cafe a la 1920s Parisan style. _That _part of town was where the more wealthy and high-end consumers inhabited; the towners had nicknamed it 'The Gleamer's Side'. The other was obviously the less fortunate where the old buildings dated back to the time Mystic Falls was founded. Personally, I preferred this part of it. It reeked of history and lore; with the beautiful antebellum structures and local niche shops.

I wondered about the area, reading the street signs for the herbal shop my father had instructed me to check out for a possible lead on a clue for Rakta. The name of the shop was inscripted on the small scrap of paper crumpled into my first- it was in Russian but I could roughly translate it into English: _The White Horse. _Ominous and a tad dramatic for my taste but it was Mystic Falls. Everything here belonged in an overdone television show.

I managed to find the store tucked in a corner besides a small Chinese restaurant. It was a quaint, ramshackled place with a wooden sign barely hanging off the hinges, green and white words daubed onto the board: **Wh te H r es.**Twisting the door ajar, I pushed the gap wider and the floorboards creaked and moaned under my step. The shop was spacious and exceptionally narrow but it looked as though it had been destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. There were endless rows of shelves of leather-bound books, grimoires, cupboards of corked bottles with labels plastered onto it, the names of the herbs inside the bottle was scrawled in italics.

It was mostly occupied by a massive, stuffy leather couch in the centre of the round. A coffee table littered messily with parchment rolls, quills, pens with their quills missing and coffee mugs.

"Can- can I help you?"

I whirled around to the sound of the voice and saw a girl with cropped hair and long bangs hiding the majority of her small face.

"Yes, you can," I glanced around at their collection, hoping for some kind of a directory manual. "Do...you have anything on demonology possibly?"

Her eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement, taken aback by my request but nonetheless she bit her lip and said: "Well, we have resources on witchcraft being _tied _to demonology but nothing speficially about demonology."

"Anything you have relating to the subject will be fine."

"Oh- oh _well,_" she stuttered slightly, jittered. "Then, um, you can- uh, take a seat by the couch. And I'll go…" she ducked towards the shelves of books before she could give herself a chance to finish the sentence.

I didn't accept her on the offer to sit down. I prefer to stand- it gave me the leisure and security of being on my feet in case anything went wrong. The first rule of combat, my father had drilled in my head like a mantra, was to always be alert. The minute your guard let up, you'll find yourself in the constant of danger.

The girl padded over into the messy rows of shelves of books, browsing over her vast collection. I felt a sort of mystical aura wavering off her body and I automatically sensed she wasn't entirely human- she wasn't definitely a vampire. I saw no daylight ring twisted around her finger. That was me- years of taking down supernatural creatures around my monster-infested village had honed my senses to detect the distinction of a human and a creature of the supernatural.

She returned, her feet inching pathetically towards me as she struggled under the strains of eight large, dense leather-bound books. "Here...it...is," she huffed and dumped the lot onto the coffee table. Immediately, I surged forward to pick one of them up. Dusted and grime was instantly present, stuck and gathered into my nails as I swiped a hand down the index and blew the dust away to read the title: _Daemones in Maleficiis Suis. _

_Latin, _I decoded as it floated off the hardened cover. There was a clasp binding it shut and I brushed my fingers around the iron-wrought fastener. I wringed it apart and it broke free, giving way with a satisfactory _click!_ I flicked to the first page and the first thing that hit me was the rotting stench of papyrus constrained in a tiny space for hundreds of years. I coughed and gagged at the stench. My eyes watered but I carry on to read the first page.

It was a contents page implemented with washed-out colourful sketches of plants, herbs and grotesque animal hybrids and indecipherable Latin inscriptions and instructions. I sighed, frustrated- I didn't mind it being in another language, preferably Russian or even Ukrainian but _Latin? _A dead language nobody had spoke for the past five hundred years? My grimy nails dug into my skin, irate. It would take longer than I thought to complete this mission.

"Can you translate it?" I asked her.

Her brows knitted. "The whole book?" She appeared aghast. She took upon my irritable mouth twitching as a _yes. _"It'll...it'll take a while. For a charge."

"Of course," I conceded briskly and tapped my hands onto the rest of the books she had dug out. "Do you have anything here in English? Or Russian?"

"Russian…" she bent down to read the titles on the indexes. "No, sorry. They only come in Runes, Old German and Latin. Um, also Enochian."

I looked at her quizzically, bewildered. "Enochian?"

She shrugged nonchalantly and tucked in a strand of her cropped dark hair behind her small ears. "It's 'angel' language," she supplied with a respectable amount of suspended disbelief, "If you believe in that kind of...stuff," she averted her gaze, feigning interest for her worn-out tennis sneakers.

"I've never heard of the term before."

"You wouldn't. It's a very obscured, um, branch of language." The way she said her words; the _ums _and the hesitant pauses, as though she was nervous around strangers and she was afraid she was going to stumble out her obviously superior knowledge on the subject and I would regard it as stupid and a waste of time. She had _no _self-confidence whatsoever.

"Is it like Latin?"

She considered it. "Not really. It's mostly-" she caught herself, glancing at me as if she wondered if I heard her mistake. I did but I didn't bring myself to contradict her. "I mean, it's _rumoured _to be mostly spoken by Angels and the sons and daughters of God."

"So humans."

She discharged it in a manner of utter absolute. "No, Nephilims."

"..._Nephilims?_ You said sons and daughters of God."

She shook her head. "Humans are sons and daughters of Adam and Eve. True, we are somewhat related to him but humans are now a very diluted line connecting to the man upstairs. Nephilims are direct."

I digested the whole new process of information and continued to grill her further: "What do they do?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "They're nearly an extinct lines. Archangels don't like them very much but if they have to, they'll work with them to defeat demons and minions of Satan- but it's all just silliness, of course," she added tautly, with her lips pursed.

"Of course." She was hiding something and not very subtly too but I didn't press her. I understood her privacy and knew better than to trespassed a territory bordered with proverbial fences. I spurned the attention back to the books. "So can you translate the whole set?"

"Uh, sure….it'll be a hefty cost. And it'll take at least...a few weeks."

"Just give me a call through this number once you're done with a book," I handed her a crisp white card that contained my brand new number for America. "The name's Kosti Sergeyveya."

"Nice to meet you," she said softly. "I'm Rhian. Rhian Albright."

The bus stopped at a drop-off in a run-down, lonely strip of motels. Many of the motels and inns here had poor plumbing, low ceilings, crumbling decor with deteriorating white paint. It was not the Hilton or anything remotely close to luxurious but it would do for now.

With the motel key, I inserted it into the lock and twisted it open. I pushed it open into a room of dim lighting. Rakta must've drawn the curtains again. She hated natural lighting- the sun. She was sitting plainly on her bed with a sketchbook in hand and crayons scattered all over the bed sheets. She had a red crayon clutched between her fingers and was violently drawing lines onto the canvas.

"How was your day?" I asked breezily as I settled on the foot of her bed.

"Fine," she shot.

"What are you drawing?"

She closed her book and slapped the crayon into the box. Her bone white hair was piled into a messy bun and she was still adorning last night's pyjamas. "Nothing."

"Come on," I smiled playfully, reaching for the sketchbook she'd tossed at the nightstand. "Let me see-"

"No!" she roared, her icy blue eyes flashing black. Her floaty, high-pitched voice turned into a guttural growl and I leaped out of the bed and onto my feet. I circled the bed as something other than my seven-year old sister took over her.

"Rakta, calm down," I said as patiently as I could. Cautiously, I languidly bent down and whipped out the small tranquiliser dart I've hidden in my right boot, strapped to my ankle.

"Fat chance," she gurgled; the sound came out as though she was speaking from the other end of a pipe. She bared her teeth and pounced at me; we went crashing to the floor and she straddled me between her legs, forcing my body weight down. Her long fingernails struck me on the cheek. Blood dripped down but I stayed focus, unfazed as I drew the syringe, preparing for insertion and stabbed her in the neck.

The effect was instantaneous. Her eyes drooped and her body followed suit, her limbs losing their motor skills as she collapsed onto me. I took out the syringe from her neck and it began to bleed- that's what sucks about cambions. Though they may seemed to be totally inhuman, their wounds still reminded you their humanity was still tethered in their souls somewhere.

I pushed her off me gently and carried her onto the bed. Her head lolled askew, exposing the neck dripped with droplets of blood. I applied the bandage and sighed as I combed the loose blonde hair from her face. I hope I could find a cure soon- or not, I'll have to do what I was dreading the most. Seeing her incapacitated this way made a swell of emotions rise in my throat, threatening the tears to spill out but I blinked and forced it away.

Over the years, I've mastered the art of an indifferent face taught by my militant father. It was never a good thing to allow your opponents to view your emotions because they can manipulate it in order to possess the upperhand. I took his advice seriously. I've managed to become so adequate with twisting a mask of stoicness that it was my expression 24/7.

Weary, I trudged into the sub-par hygiene-level bathroom and stripped myself out of clothing. Entering the shower, I turned the water on and mulled about my next focus tasks without the books- I could try to find out what the hell was a Nephilim. There was bound to be some information lying around Mystic Falls, which was no doubt the supernatural magnet. There was never an ordinary day in Mystic Falls, be it an Apocalypse or it's regularly scheduled drama.

When I finished my shower, I stepped out with a towel wrapped around my body and once again entered the motel room I was sharing with my sister.

But ultimately, I knew something was wrong as I stopped dead in my tracks. Horror washed over me.

The door was torn off. Rakta's bed was empty. My blood went cold and for a fraction of a second, a look akin to worry and paralyzing fear crossed my face.

There was a demon on the loose.

* * *

><p><strong>I apologize for any character inaccuracies. But cliffhanger! Oh dear!<strong>

**I hoped you guys enjoyed it. :)**

**REVIEW!**


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